


Falling

by concupiscence66



Series: Falling [1]
Category: The Mighty Boosh (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-07
Updated: 2015-04-07
Packaged: 2018-03-21 18:34:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 18,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3702067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/concupiscence66/pseuds/concupiscence66
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Vince Noir learns about love and sex as a young man starting out at the Zooniverse.  His friend and mentor, Howard, helps him through an encounter with surrealist painter (Rosey), a non-romance with a man called Stitch, a one night stand with writer, Dan Ashcroft and a romance with performance artist, Julie B.   (This is the first of a trilogy of stories featuring Vince and various characters played by Julian Barratt.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Rosey

“Those monkey cages aren’t going to clean themselves, are they, Vince?”

Vince looked at his supervisor, who was busy throwing peanuts in the air and trying to catch them in his mouth (with roughly a 20% success rate). There was no point in arguing. Howard Moon was a master of debate. Any time Vince tried to question why he had to do all the menial labor himself, Howard would launch into one of his endless speeches. Vince invariably lost focus halfway through and ended up somehow agreeing that it was important that he, and only he, completed the most difficult tasks at the zoo. 

It also wasn’t worth arguing, because the monkies hated Howard and had a fit when he was in their cage. Howard could be a bit of a dick, but Vince didn’t want to see the monkies rip his face off and eat it (as they so often threatened when Howard came near). Most of the animals were not fond of Howard. Howard was pompous, bossy, obnoxious, lazy and shifty-eyed and those were qualities that turned off both man and beast. 

But not Vince. Vince liked Howard. The old man was funny in his way, and unlike most of the ‘adults’ in Vince’s life, Howard wasn’t worried about what Vince did or didn’t wear. The first time he dared wear lip gloss to work, he’d been afraid of Howard’s reaction. Howard ended up stealing the gloss because it was peach flavored. He sat on a bench, applying and licking off Vince’s lip gloss while Vince gave the honey badgers a bath. Howard was a scruffy mess, but it didn’t seem to be attached to any particular views of manliness. Vince was used to people making a big fuss about how he dressed or did his hair or make-up, but Howard only cared that Vince worked hard (so that Howard didn’t have to).

Xxx

Vince took the longest and hottest shower the Keeper Hut shower allowed, but it wasn’t enough. The smell of monkey was in his skin. He wrapped his hair in a towel and put on a fresh uniform. It was one of Howard’s old uniforms, apparently from before his ‘growth spurt’. Howard swore he grew five inches in one summer.

“It was like a nightmare, Vince,” Howard reminisced in his grandest tone. “I would wake up and my pajamas wouldn’t fit any more. I thought I would never stop growing. Yes, sir, Vince. I was planning for a life in a freak show. And Tommy always told me that the ladies only liked short, stocky men, so I was desperate to stop growing.”

The uniform was still a little long on Vince, but not as ridiculous as one of Howard’s current uniforms would have been. Howard towered over Vince and he was all leg. Vince rolled the bottom of the trousers up so they didn’t hang under his feet. The uniforms hadn’t changed since Howard was Vince’s age (which Vince reckoned must have been thirty years ago), so Vince planned to take the uniform home and tailor it to fit correctly so he’d have a back up. Howard had a theory that the Zooniverse hadn’t purchased any new uniforms since the seventies and that was why Bob Fossil was so stingy about handing them out.

He didn’t have any styling products, so Vince pulled his hair back into a ponytail. He looked at himself in the mirror and shuddered. He felt precariously close to becoming the next Howard Moon. He’d have to start keeping products in his locker for emergencies.

Vince felt dejected as he walked back out into the zoo in his borrowed clothing. He shuffled along, and stared at his feet, and only looked up when he heard a gasp. He lifted his head and saw a tall and elegant older man. He wore a perfectly tailored cream suit with a pocket square. He looked like classy businessman or maybe a gangster pretending to be a business man. Either way, he looked like the richest person Vince had ever seen in real life. His hair was slicked straight back, but the perfect arrangement of little curls at the back of his neck promised it was an expensive haircut.

“Remarkable,” the man spoke with a vague accent that Vince could not place.

Vince shifted uncomfortably under the older man’s stare. He wanted to hide in his borrowed uniform.

“Do you know Bauer? The great surrealist artist?” the man asked.

Vince’s mouth went dry, but he was able to stammer out, “Like Dali?”

“No! Not like Dali! Dali was not the only surrealist artist. There were other great men, greater men…” the man abruptly clamped down on his feelings and said, “Yes. Like Dali. But better.”

Vince shook his head. He loved art class, but he was never good at remembering which artist was which. He had once been told he was a visual thinker. He preferred that to what he was usually told, that he was dim.

“He was… remarkable.”

There was something terribly sad about the man’s face in that moment and it hurt Vince to look at him.

“Did you know him?” Vince asked.

The older man looked deep into Vince’s eyes, like he was trying to see directly into Vince’s soul. Vince wilted under the gaze, but desperately wanted the man to find something worth seeing.

“I would like to paint you,” the older man said, suddenly cool and composed. “I’ll pay generously for your time.”

Vince tried to stand up straight, but the dapper man’s posture was so erect and perfect, Vince still felt like he was slouching.

“Paint me? A portrait or…”

“Yes a portrait,” the man snapped. “I don’t want to actually paint on you, although… No. I want a portrait.”

“Of me?” Vince asked, completely confused but oddly thrilled.

“No. Not of you. But you’ll be a perfect model.”

Vince’s feelings were hurt by the statement, but the sadness had returned to the man’s face. Vince would have done anything to cheer him up.

“Sure. I haven’t got much on.”

Xxx

Vince had no idea how to dress for a modeling gig. He tried asking Howard, but that just led to a lecture about the finer points of Howard’s face and physique. Vince wondered if it was something Howard learned from Tommy, to tell people he was handsome rather than leave them to make their own decision. Vince had seen pictures of Tommy, and Tommy was a big-headed freak that only Howard would call a “handsome man”. Tommy needed to confuse people if he wanted to pass his cheeselike head off as appealing, but Howard was normal enough. His bragging only made people look for flaws in his appearance.

Vince settled on a simple white tee-shirt and jeans with only a touch of eyeliner and lip gloss. He wore his hair back in a ponytail since Rosey had seemed keen on the style. It looked weird, but it helped Vince pretend he was playing a role. He wasn’t a scared kid trying to figure out how to model, he was Vince Noir: Ponytailed modeling star.

Rosey’s work space was a warmer and friendlier place than Vince expected. The walls were a soft pink and the floor was a blond hardwood. In the middle of the room was a stool.

Rosey was still natty looking in his painting smock. He greeted Vince with tea and biscuits and showed him around the studio. There were pictures of Rosey when he was young, apparently with the infamous Bauer. Rosey had been fit in his youth. He already had the austere grace of his elderly self, but there was something about those photos that excited Vince. There was a magnetism to Rosey and a promise that something wild lurked beneath his polished exterior.

Bauer was a strange looking man with a sharp and bony face emphasized by a severe ponytail. He was handsome in an odd sort of way. Vince was not offended to be compared to Bauer, but he wasn’t exactly flattered. 

“He was the most remarkable man,” Rosey said softly, and when Vince turned to look at him, Rosey’s eyes were shining with unshed tears. “Irreplaceable.”

Vince wanted to make Rosey happy. He wanted it with his whole heart.

“How should I pose?” Vince asked. He was eager to please Rosey and ease his sadness if possible. Vince had yet to lose someone he loved, and Rosey’s pain seemed unfathomable. 

“There’s a robe behind the screen. You can fully disrobe or you can leave on whatever you like until you begin to feel foolish and decide to pose fully nude.”

Vince’s stomach flipped, but Rosey looked bored. It was obvious from his speech that he was accustomed to working with inexperienced models. While Vince was hesitant to get his kit off, it had little to do with Rosey, who seemed to be all business. Vince ended up removing all of his clothing, but he wrapped the robe tight around himself. 

“Should I sit on the stool?” Vince asked as he nervously shuffled out from behind the privacy screen. 

“Do whatever makes you feel comfortable,” was Rosey’s only response. He was already busy mixing paints. Looking around the room, Vince got the impression that Rosey worked with a variety of media, from paint to what appeared to be actual crabs. Vince had only ever been good at drawing when he was a kid. He wanted to watch Rosey at work, but instead, he sat on the stool and waited for further instruction.

Vince kept his robe on, but Rosey seemed unconcerned. He stared at Vince and held up his brush like he was measuring Vince’s height and width, but he didn’t speak a word. Vince looked around the room and tried to find something to entertain him so he could sit still, but everything he saw filled him with questions. He wondered if Rosey was going to paint him so he looked like Bauer or if he was just going to make Vince look all weird and distorted like some of the paintings on the wall. Nothing in the studio was ‘normal’. Everything was strange in one way or another. It made Vince want to take up drawing again.

“Was Bauer a painter like you?” he asked after an eternity of silence.

“Bauer was a remarkable painter, but he preferred more dynamic art forms. He was a visionary.”

Vince let another eternity go by.

“Was he your boyfriend?”

Rosey stood behind his easel and out of Vince’s sight and said, “He was my partner in every way.”

Vince had always thought “partner” was a cold term to use to describe a lover, but when Rosey said it, it sounded powerful. Vince tried to imagine himself with a partner “in every way”, someone with whom he could share everything. He couldn’t fathom what she would look like.

When Rosey remained hidden behind his easel, Vince removed his robe. He pulled his legs up so his bits were basically covered, but he sat naked on the stool and tried to look like a visionary.

Rosey sighed sadly before returning to work. He made no acknowledgment of Vince’s state of undress, he just went back to painting.

Xxx

Vince tried to adjust his position, only to realize too late that his leg was asleep. He wobbled for a moment before crashing to the floor. He hit his elbow hard and hissed in pain. The pain was so intense he gave no thought to modesty as Rosey tended to him with an ice pack.

“This happen a lot?” Vince asked, honestly curious why Rosey had the ice pack at the ready.

Rosey smiled wanly. 

“Surrealism comes with its bumps and bruises.”

Vince laughed. “You sound like my supervisor at the zoo. ‘Young Vince, you’ll find the zookeeper’s life is full of risk and danger…’ Sorry. He’s a bit mental.”

Rosey nodded, but Vince wasn’t sure he heard a word. Rosey’s eyes were traveling over Vince’s body with something more than artistic appreciation. Vince felt himself flushing all over, but he made no effort to cover himself. Other than having a girlfriend for two days when he was thirteen, Vince’s love life had been nearly non-existent. He was already closer to seventeen than sixteen and he’d never gone farther than a kiss.

Vince wasn’t so much attracted to Rosey as to Rosey’s attention. He wanted the desire in Rosey’s eyes to stay focused on his body. He’d attracted Rosey’s attention by looking like someone else, but it was clear that Rosey was finally truly looking at Vince. It was an old man’s hand on Vince’s shoulder, but the fingers were long and elegant. Vince could tell how Rosey held a pen and how he held a brush from the calluses on his otherwise delicate hands. Vince thought of the word ‘intimate’ in a new light. 

Vince’s chest tightened as Rosey stroked his hair.

“His hair was turning white when I lost him,” Rosey mused. “It was so beautiful. He was so beautiful.”

Vince wondered if he was beautiful, but he couldn’t be selfish in the face of Rosey’s depth of feeling. It was Rosey’s moment.

Vince stayed still as Rosey moved a hand to his shoulder and then to his chest. 

“Am I making you uncomfortable?” Rosey asked in a breathy voice that made Vince twitch below the waist. He’d never heard the voice of arousal in person before. Even from someone who looked like his grandfather, it was enticing.

“It’s nice,” Vince whispered. 

Rosey chuckled softly, “The uncomplicated joys of youth.”

Vince didn’t ask any questions, he just closed his eyes as Rosey wrapped his hand around his half-hard cock. Rosey knew what he was doing, and his hand was soft and sure as he stroked. Vince leaned back against Rosey, ignoring the wet paint against his back. When Rosey wrapped his free arm across Vince’s chest, Vince grabbed on to the arm with both hands and came. The orgasm hit him suddenly and shook his whole body. He was about to apologize for the mess when Rosey pressed a kiss to his cheek and called him a beautiful boy. 

Vince’s mind was blown, but Rosey was in full command of his senses as he cleaned Vince up and steered him back to the now absurd privacy screen to get dressed. Vince didn’t hear a word Rosey said, only the calm and kind tone that told him everything was fine. The only time Rosey seemed less than Buddha like in his calm was when he filled Vince’s hand with Euros. 

“Does that seem like enough?” Rosey asked.

“You could give me a lot less than this,” Vince answered honestly. “I just sat on a stool and, well, made a mess on your floor.”

Rosey laughed and added a few more bills. As Vince left, he caught a glimpse of Rosey’s easel. The canvas was covered in doodles with splashes of color. Vince recognized his fidgeting poses and was impressed by how his nervous energy came across even in the most basic outline. He also recognized the way the doodles stood as scaffolding for the real drawings. Later, Rosey would build his Bauers on those Vince skeletons. 

“Was it worth it?” Vince asked before he had time to think better of it.

“I beg your pardon?” Rosey looked baffled and there were tears shining in his eyes.

“Loving someone that much. Is it worth it?”

Rosey gave Vince a tight smile as he composed himself.

“If I wouldn’t sacrifice a minute I had with him. If I could sacrifice one memory and lose a year’s worth of pain…” Rosey teared up again and his voice was rough with emotion as he continued. “Love is worth it, young man.”

“I’m called…”

“Let’s leave it at young man.”

Xxx

Vince felt like an alien in his own skin. Everything was the same and yet he had changed forever. Apparently, he’d had a sexual awakening without ever realizing he was asleep. He’d left his uniform at the zoo, so he was forced to wear Howard’s. He’d tailored it to his exact measurements and it looked brilliant. The only problem was his painful awareness that he was wearing another man’s clothing. His bits were being covered by material that had covered Howard’s bits and it was entirely too intimate for a Thursday morning.

Which is why he dropped a bag of feed when Howard greeted him.

“Bit jumpy,” Howard observed. “Rough night?”

Vince couldn’t look at him. He tried to act normal as he cleaned up the feed, but he no longer remembered how a person was supposed to move about. He knew he was in trouble when Howard knelt down to help him instead of folding his arms and watching.

“You all right, Little Man?” Howard asked.

Vince felt dizzy. 

Let’s leave it at young man.

“You’ve gone all white, Vince. Did you eat candy for breakfast again?”

Howard’s familiar face had been made strange by his unexpected show of concern and Vince’s sudden awareness that Howard was a man. He was, at least in theory, a sexual being. He had a mouth that had probably kissed a few women, and not just on their mouths.

Howard shoved his hands into Vince’s armpits and lifted him to his feet like he was a child.

“Have a seat before you pass out.”

Vince slouched on the bench while Howard put a wet flannel on the back of his neck. 

“So, what’s her name, then?” Howard asked in a jovial tone.

Vince asked, “Who?” and immediately saw his mistake. Howard’s smallish eyes widened slightly.

“So what’s his name, then?”

Vince covered his face with his hands and waited to actually die of embarrassment. 

“Joey Moose said he saw you exchanging information with an older man. Said he was posh.”

Vince wondered if he was having a nightmare. Howard wore a ‘fox bummer’ sign on his back at least twice a month without noticing but suddenly he was Sherlock Holmes.

“Did something happen that you didn’t want to happen?” Howard asked in a tone so soft and gentle, it would have made a soap bubble seem abrasive in comparison. Tears were stinging Vince’s eyes.

“No,” Vince whispered as he willed the tears to recede. “Nothing like that.”

Vince lost it when Howard puts his hand on Vince’s shoulder. His supervisor never touched him.

“Because boys can say no, too, you know. Men can say no. A married woman tried to kiss me once and I said no. I’ve regretted it every single day since, but that’s… that’s not really relevant to this conversation. What I’m trying to say, is if you don’t like something, you don’t have to do it. You don’t owe anything to anyone.”

Vince felt guilty for not defending Rosey. Rosey hadn’t done a thing that Vince didn’t enjoy and he didn’t regret the encounter at all. He wasn’t sure why he felt so delicate and brittle, but he really wanted Howard to take care of him. He wanted Howard to tell him what to do and make everything feel normal again. 

Vince had the occasional thoughts about men, but he never thought he might be bisexual. He could never imagine himself with a man, and now he’d gotten off with a man old enough to be his grandfather. Maybe it was the money that was making him feel so off about the experience. In the light of day, it seemed more like a scene from a classy porn than reality. It would have felt like prostitution, but Vince knew no one would pay that much just to give him a handy. If that ever seemed like a viable career option, Vince would definitely quit the zoo and become a prossie. 

“I just modeled for him. He was talking about his lover that died and it was well sad…” Vince couldn’t possibly articulate the pain he saw in Rosey. He didn’t know a word to covey that kind of pain.

Howard gave Vince a one-armed hug and spoke quietly into Vince’s ear.

“I don’t mean to meddle, Little Man. I know you don’t have family and I feel like I should look out for you, make sure people don’t take advantage of you.”

“You make me do your work all the time,” Vince pointed out. His tried to sound cheeky, but his voice cracked. He couldn’t quite stop crying.

“Exactly. I know how easy it is to take advantage of you and I don’t want to see anyone else trying it,” Howard looked stern but his eyes were twinkling. “I’m your supervisor. I take my responsibility seriously.”

“Thanks, Howard.”

He literally cried on Howard’s should until Fossil came by and called them names. When he was done crying, he felt better. His encounter with Rosey had been strange, but it was also exciting and a hell of a better story than getting drunk and feeling someone up on a couch. Vince had basked in the reflected glow of a great love and it was beautiful. Vince wanted to fall in love. He also wanted another handjob.

After work, Howard took Vince to a chippy shop where they laughed for hours about Bob Fossil. Vince wanted to set Howard straight about what had happened with Rosey, but he hated to ruin the mood. Howard was drunk and giggly and Vince wanted to enjoy his supervisor’s bon amie.

“Do you reckon he sleeps in curlers like my mum?” Howard asked. “How else would he get those curls? My hair doesn’t do that.”

“Your hair clings to your head like it has a fear of heights,” Vince agreed. “I like when it gets long and the curls in the back start reaching out like they’re trying to escape.”

Howard laughed, but he looked self-conscious as he ran a hand through his lank hair. It occurred to Vince that not only was Howard a man with the ability to have sex, Howard was a man who could conceivably be a sexual partner for Vince. As bizarre and outlandish the idea was, it was possible that Vince and Howard could end up having sex. The thought blew Vince’s mind.

“All right there, Little Man?” Howard asked as he tried to prop his wobbly head on his hand.

Vince tugged at Howard’s sleeve and Howard’s head nearly hit the table. Vince squealed his apologies, but Howard couldn’t stop laughing. 

That night, Vince thought about how Howard had long fingers like Rosey. It was hard to think of Howard in sexual terms, but when Vince thought of Howard laughing until he turned red and tears formed in his eyes, it didn’t seem like such a crazy idea. He could imagine the ways it might be nice to touch Howard, but he could also imagine how Howard would boss him around and try to play jazz while they did it. Howard Moon was not Vince’s Bauer. Or his Rosey. He wasn’t sure which he was looking for.


	2. Stitch

He was tall and lanky with a dark mop of hair so unruly, Vince nearly mistook it for hat. He was a shambles, but had the kind of aristocratic features that made it work. He looked like a prince who’d just switched gear with a pauper and he was staring at Vince. Usually, if a guy in a pub was staring at Vince, he was either looking for a fight or a form of I.D., but this guy looked hungry. 

Vince was pretty sure he was about to get pulled.

He tried to look natural as the man crossed the room.

“Forgive me for staring,” the man said. “Are you related to Pete Sweet?”

“That’s a terrible opening line,” Vince teased. “As if Pete Sweet were a real name.”

The man stared at Vince until he couldn’t help but fidget.

“Pete Sweet is my best mate,” the man said quietly. “I’m called Stitch.”

“Buy me a drink, Stitch.”

Xxx

Stitch bought Vince several drinks. He didn’t say much, but he listened to Vince with rapt attention. As with Rosey, Vince knew he was a canvas for Stitch to project his feelings for another man, but it was fun. Vince had never had someone pay so much attention to him. Every time he gave Stitch a casual touch, the man’s eyes would darken and he’d suddenly look a bit feral and dangerous. Vince put his hand on Stitch’s thigh and left it there.

Xxx

Vince was stumbling, but Stitch held him up. Stitch held him with one arm while he fumbled to get the key in the lock to his flat.

“Don’t be nervous,” Vince giggled. “I’m not really him.”

Stitch’s face hardened, but he relaxed when Vince stroked his cheeks.

“Sorry, Stitch. I’m just pissed and stupid.”

Stitch kissed Vince on the nose.

“How old are you?”

“Nineteen and a half.”

“We’re not in the pub anymore, Vince. What’s your real age?”

“I just turned seventeen,” Vince said honestly. “I’m legal. For this, anyway. I still need the fake I.D. for the pub.”

Vince had kissed a couple of people, but Stitch was by far the most skilled. Every time he felt Stitch’s tongue against his teeth, Vince’s knees went weak. He was nervous about what would happen on the other side of the door, but eager. He clapped is hands in excitement when Stitch managed to get the door open and found himself being dragged bodily into the flat and then kissed against the quickly closed door.

“You are such a good kisser, Stitch. How do you do it?”

“You’re not so bad yourself.”

Vince’s stomach did a flip as Stitch slipped his hands under Vince’s shirt and stroked his chest. When he pulled Vince’s shirt off, Vince was hit by the reality of what was about to happen. His only experience was sitting still while Rosey gave him a handjob. He hadn’t done anything in return.

Stitch’s bedroom was cluttered with books and records. Stitch had to pick up a bunch of records off of his bed before they could lie down. Vince didn’t recognize any of the artists, so Stitch was either very smart or very cool. Maybe both.

“I have a thing for vinyl,” Stitch admitted with a shy smile.

“Me, too! I love listening to Bowie and hearing the snaps and cracks and I can imagine I’m in the seventies and hearing the album for the first time and how it would have blown my mind…”

Vince felt embarrassed by his little speech, but Stitch smiled. Then he put “Hunky Dory” on the record player. Vince stripped off what was left of his clothes and jumped onto Stitch’s bed.

“This is perfect,” Vince squealed. The lager was making him talk too much, but Stitch seemed to enjoy the running commentary.

Stitch crawled on top of Vince and kissed him. His corduroys rubbed against Vince’s hard cock and it felt like it could be over at any moment.

“I don’t have a lot of experience,” Vince explained. “I’m probably going to come way too soon.”

Stitch seemed to take it as a challenge. He ground his hips into Vince’s as they snogged until he couldn’t hold back any longer. Vince dug his fingers into Stitch’s shoulders and came on the near stranger’s dark brown cords.

Stitch didn’t seem bothered, rather, he used some of Vince’s semen to work a finger inside of Vince’s arse. In the post-orgasmic clarity, Vince had some concerns about letting a strange man fuck him, but he loved the way Stitch was looking at him. He was so brooding and intense, the complete opposite of Vince. 

When Stitch’s finger slid inside, it felt good but Vince was not prepared for the feeling of having his prostate touched. That was electrifying.

“That is genius, Stitch,” Vince moaned. “You should keep doing that, cause that is just… That is genius.”

By the time Stitch put on a johnny, Vince felt ready. He was starting to get hard again and he wanted something bigger and thicker and smoother than Stitch’s fingers.

“I can’t wait to have you inside me,” Vince whispered. “It’s going to be so amazing.”

Stitch laughed and gave Vince a gentle kiss before he lined himself up and worked his cock inside. Vince was dimly aware of Stitch talking, but he couldn’t hear words. He was totally overwhelmed by the feeling of being stretched and every time Stitch hit that spot, he saw stars.

“Fuck me harder,” Vince whined. “It’s so good. Fuck me harder.”

Vince put his hand above his head to keep it from banging against the head board as Stitch got lost in the moment. When Stitch noticed, he apologized and yanked Vince down towards the middle of the bed before putting Vince’s legs over his shoulders and folding him in half. In their new position, Vince had no leverage at all and just had to give himself over to Stitch’s movements. Fortunately, Stitch did not let him down.

The second time he came, it wasn’t nearly as strong, but it left him feeling completely worn out. He could barely hang on to Stitch as the bigger man continued his vigorous thrusts. He heard Stitch moan, “Pete,” as he came, but he was too tired to care. His eyelids felt like lead. He mumbled, “Thank you,” before passing out.

xxx

In the cold light of day, Vince did not regret the sex, but he very much regretted not putting on some clothes before falling asleep. He did not want to walk around in front of Stitch while naked. They barely knew one another.

As soon as Stitch went into the bathroom, Vince scrambled around and got himself dressed. Stitch came out wearing a towel and they stood awkwardly for a few moments before Vince broke the silence.

“Should I give you my number?”

Stitch hesitated and Vince wished he had more clothes to put on. Maybe a nice parka he could hide in.

“I just meant ‘cause this was nice. I’m not trying to make this something it isn’t.” Vince felt foolish, but the more he looked at Stitch, the more he wanted to see him again. Stitch was handsome and sweet, and he was an absolutely amazing lover.

“I don’t want to mislead you, Vince. You’re very sweet,” Stitch said it so gently, it didn’t feel like a brush-off.

“I know you’re in love with someone else,” Vince said. “I just meant maybe…”

“It would be very easy to fall in love with you, Vince.”

Vince watched Stitch twitch and shift his weight and it made him smile.

“Can you try not to fall in love with me for another hour or so?” Vince asked as he moved closer and put his hands on Stitch’s slim hips. 

An hour and a half later, a freshly showered Vince headed home with a not-quite-promise that Stitch would call him.

Xxx

Vince tried very hard not to get his hopes up, but when Stitch finally called, he did an actual cartwheel. Howard noticed his excited mood and asked if he’d gotten a new hairdryer. The sex only got better with experience. Stitch was the perfect teacher. He made Vince feel sexy and confident so that Vince wasn’t afraid to ask questions like, “Would it be gross if I…”? and “Is this supposed to hurt?” with Stitch. Most people made Vince feel stupid, but Stitch listened to every word he said like it was important. When he told Stitch what he wanted and what he liked, Stitch paid close attention and followed through. If Stitch ever got a leg over with his Pete Sweet, Pete would owe Vince big time.

Vince wondered if Stitch ever would get together with Pete. When they were together and Stitch was being so tender and sweet, Vince could easily imagine them as a real couple, but Stitch had rules. He didn’t even like ordering take-out during their hook-ups because he didn’t want to drift into “date territory”. Stitch thought he could control feelings with rules and Vince thought it was cute, if a bit deranged. 

When Howard asked Vince about his evenings, Vince said he was in a band called the Ladder Coins. He described gigs where he rode into the club on the back of a camel while Howard laughed himself silly. As long as his stories were silly enough, Howard didn’t dig deeper and since Howard was the only person who actually cared what Vince got up to, it made life easier.

As long as Vince could make Howard laugh, he was safe from his supervisor’s scrutiny. He didn’t tell Howard a thing about Stitch until it was over.

“You’re hair is all flat and sad looking,” Howard observed. “Is it ill? Did a bird land on it?”

“This is the new look,” Vince explained. “Everyone is doing the sad tramp look. You’re about to be fashionable, Howard.”

“What happened, Little Man?”

Howard only pulled out that nickname when he was trying to do his mental voodoo on Vince. Vince had to stay strong.

“I was on my way to work and you’ll never believe it. I saw this Leprechaun…”

“I’ll put a kettle on and you can tell me all about it. Believe me, Vince, Howard Moon is no stranger to tales of heartache.”

Vince sat at the table in the Keeper Hut and wondered where he went wrong. 

Vince tried to avoid pronouns, but ultimately he had to acknowledge that it was a man who broke his heart, however unintentionally. Howard accepted the news with a nod.

“He’s still in love with the other fella?” Howard asked.

Vince smiled at the word ‘fella’.

“He really loves him. He thinks about him all the time. They’re best mates, Howard! They spend every day together. How can Pete not notice Stitch is in love with him?”

Howard looked thoughtful.

“It sounds like Stitch is good at hiding his feelings. Maybe he’s too good.”

“But wouldn’t you know if someone was in love with you?” Vince asked. “You’d have to feel it.”

Howard shook his head. “People see what they want to see and what they expect to see. Maybe Pete sees that Stitch loves him but not… He might only see the part he’s expecting to see.”

Vince could see the wisdom in Howard’s words. Stitch was good at hiding his feelings. Vince never knew what he was thinking.

“And Stitch decided to end things?” Howard asked gently.

Vince stared at his tea up and tried to be a bit like Stitch.

“I ended it.”

Howard sat quietly, which was alarming enough to force Vince to keep speaking.

“He’s never going to love me and I… I was getting feelings.”

“Are you in love with him?”

Vince said no and then thought about it and said no again.

“I like him so much. So, so much, but I’m not in love. I just think… I could imagine it happening and that would have been awful.”

“Because he didn’t love you back?”

“Because it was all for someone else,” Vince explained. “Everything he was doing to make me want to love him was for someone else.”

“It sounds like you made the right choice,” Howard said as he stared into his own cup. Vince wondered if he was thinking about someone he’d loved, but they didn’t have that kind of relationship. Howard didn’t answer personal questions. What he revealed, he revealed through grandiose speeches.

“He’s so handsome and so nice…” Vince hadn’t meant to say it out loud, but the truth was leaking out of him. “He might be the best person I ever go out with and he wasn’t even going out with me.”

Howard smiled and his eyes crinkled in the corners. Sometimes Vince wondered what Howard looked like when he was young, before he got all his wrinkles and lines. Maybe there had been a time when Howard was younger and fitter, but Vince wouldn’t have wanted to see a Howard without laugh lines. 

“There will be lots of people lining up to go out with you, Vince. Don’t worry about it.”

“Thanks, Howard. I know this isn’t part of your job description…”

“Actually, it is,” Howard said in a solemn tone. “Bob Fossil has put some pretty weird things into the job descriptions.”


	3. Dan Ashcroft

Vince’s boots were amazing, but he’d lost the feeling in his toes before he made it to the tube. He was worried about making it through the night. He’d spent hours on his hair, in hopes that it would distract everyone from the pain in his face. 

When he saw the line outside the club, his heart sank. His feet were going to fall off before he had a drink. 

He was trying to figure out a way to lean against the wall without snagging the material of his jumpsuit when he heard someone yell, “Are you fucking kidding me!”

He turned to look at the motley crew approaching the club. They looked like they’d all just woken up in a pile in a gutter. Vince could feel in his soul that they were Very Important People. No one went to a club in Shoreditch in dirty trainers if they weren’t Important. 

Vince couldn’t help but openly stare as the group walked by. A young, dark-haired girl with the group stopped in front of Vince.

“Oh my god! How are you standing in those boots?” 

Vince shrugged. “Used to it. I don’t even notice the pain anymore.”

She was a pretty girl with luminous eyes.

“Don’t talk to them!” a man yelled. “Don’t encourage the rabble…”

Vince watched a man amble towards them on unsteady feet. 

“Stitch?” Vince asked. He knew Stitch’s hair would never be so artfully mussed nor his t-shirt so ironic, but the resemblance was uncanny. 

“Stitch?” the man returned his query. 

“He’s a mate of mine,” Vince explained, but he was pretty sure the man didn’t care, as he threw his arm around Vince and pulled him into the group. 

“YOU,” the man said with far too much emphasis, “look like my flat mate. Except you’re taller and better for leaning on.”

“You are so pissed, Dan,” the girl said in a lecturing way. She looked Vince’s age, but she had an almost maternal tone. “How are you going to write about this club? You aren’t going to remember it.”

Dan rested his head on Vince’s, thoughtlessly crushing his hair, but Vince didn’t dare protest, as he was only feet from being inside the club.

“I don’t have to remember it,” Dan murmured. “That’s why we take pictures, Claire. That’s why we take pictures.”

Xxx

As soon as they were through the door, Dan yelled, “Drinks!” and charged towards the bar, like a warrior going into battle. 

“Your boyfriend seems nice,” Vince yelled at the pretty girl. “Very, um…”

“He’s my brother, and he’s not usually like this,” the girl yelled back. Vince could barely hear her, but her lips were easy to read. “At least, he wasn’t like that. I don’t know what he’s like anymore.”

Vince pointed at himself and yelled his name. The girl yelled back, “Claire!”

Dan returned and put beers in Vince and Claire’s hands. He put his arm around Vince and squeezed before yelling directly into his ear.

“If you touch my sister, I will actually kill you. I will punch into your chest cavity and pull out your heart and show it to you before I…”

Vince didn’t think it was worth quibbling when Claire got between them and yelled that Vince was “clearly gay.” His terror turned into a different kind of excitement when Dan gave his arm another squeeze. Death threats aside, Vince liked having Dan’s hands on his body. 

“Clearly,” Dan repeated.

Dan gave him a wolfish smile, and Vince felt unsteady on his feet. He leaned heavily on Dan and repeated, in what he hoped was a sexy tone, “Clearly.”

Xxx

Dan put a small brown bottle under Vince’s nose and told him to sniff, so he did. He then rested his head against the men’s room stall so he wouldn’t fall over. He heard himself saying, “Fuck me, please,” but he felt like he had no control over what he was saying. He felt empty and needy, and Dan’s hands were everywhere. When he felt Dan’s cock against his arse, Vince was surprised to realize his jumpsuit was down around his knees.

“How’d I get naked?” Vince asked, causing Dan to laugh uproariously. Vince groaned as Dan stroked Vince’s cock while fingering his ass.

“You are something else,” Dan murmured. 

Vince groaned and pushed himself into Dan’s fingers. Like getting naked, his arse seemed to be stretching with little to no effort. Stitch usually spent ages getting Vince ready, but Dan had at least three fingers inside of him in what felt like no time at all.

Dan covered his mouth, but Vince could still hear his moans echoing through the bathroom as Dan entered him. Dan shushed him, but his cock felt insanely large inside of Vince. 

“You really love it, don’t you?” Dan whispered. “You can’t get enough of my cock, can you?”

Vince whimpered and came as soon as Dan gave his cock another stroke. Vince desperately grabbed on to the wall and reached back for Dan in a vain attempt not to fall over as he was fucked into oblivion. Vince was confused when Dan suddenly pulled out and he felt a warmth trickling down his rear end. 

“Fuck,” Dan whispered. “What the fuck did I just do?”

Vince had a similar question in mind. Stitch had always worn a condom. Vince had never had to ask.

“I need a drink,” Dan said before stumbling out of the stall. “I’ll get you a drink. A big, big drink.”

Vince was torn between trying to clean himself off and just getting dressed when a strange voice said, “Well, well, well.”

Vince jumped and scurried to cover himself. His limbs were rubbery and hard to control as he pulled the jumpsuit back into place.

“No rush, beautiful,” the man said, and multiple unseen people laughed. Vince panicked and felt the simultaneous need to run and vomit, but he couldn’t decide which to do first. He was too drunk and high and post-orgasmic to make decisions.

“Calm down, beautiful. You won’t even notice a few more…”

Vince kicked the man in the shins and screamed, “Don’t touch me! Don’t you fucking touch me! Go away!” He kept screaming until the man had backed away enough for Vince to make an escape. He barely registered the demeaning comments he left in his wake; he was too busy running for the door. He pushed through the door and stumbled back into the club and into Claire’s arms.

“Oh my god, Vince! Are you all right? Why are you crying?”

Vince touched his numb face and felt tears.

“I don’t know!” he yelled honestly. 

“Was it… Dan?” Claire looked so sincerely worried that Vince swore up and down that Dan had had nothing to do with it and that he was a good person, bordering on a veritable Prince Charming.

When Dan reappeared with drinks, he gave Claire another beer and a glass of amber liquid to Vince. It burned, but Vince felt better. It felt like the kind of poison that could make everything okay.

xxx

Vince was covered with sweat. He’d never been whiskey drunk before, and his body smelled strange and unfamiliar.

“Are you okay?” Claire screamed over the music. Vince nodded vigorously, but a fit of vertigo nearly brought him to his knees. He was surprised to suddenly find himself sitting on a leather sofa with something cold against his neck.

“Can you hear me?” Claire asked loudly. She was kneeling on the floor in front of him.

“Course I can hear you,” Vince laughed. “You’re yelling in my face.” 

Claire rolled her eyes and flopped onto the couch beside him. Vince looked around the room. It appeared to be the office of some kind of fifties playboy. Everything was leather and mahogany. Dan was lying on the ground, looking like he was sinking into the deep shag carpet.

“Where are we?”

“The club owner’s office,” Claire explained with undisguised enthusiasm. “Some girl just gave Dan the key.”

Dan waggled his eyebrows, and Vince again felt woozy. His memory of the bathroom was hazy, but he could still hear Dan groaning in his ear. Dan looked like he’d been to hell and back, and it suited him. Vince wanted to curl up next to him on the floor and bask in his unfettered hedonism. 

Vince was curious as to how he’d ended up in the room, when seconds ago he’d been on the dance floor with Claire, but he was certain asking the question would only lead to embarrassment. 

“You scared me out there. You were dancing and then your eyes rolled back in your head like a fucking horror movie.” Claire’s tone was angry, but her eyes were full of concern.

“What did you take other than poppers?” Dan asked from the floor. “Did you do any coke?”

Vince giggled at the idea. His experience with drugs included smoking pot twice, taking some diet pills his mate’s mum had had to sneak into the country, and (more recently) doing poppers with Dan before having unprotected sex in a public bathroom. 

“I’m serious,” Dan said, raising himself up onto his elbows. “You could have a stroke or a heart attack. Poppers and coke are a bad combo.”

“You didn’t do any coke, did you?” Claire asked Dan. Dan was laughably transparent as he shook his head no. Vince had always wanted a sibling, and he enjoyed watching Dan and Claire interact. They had an odd relationship, but they clearly cared about one another. Vince imagined having a bossy little sister or a brooding older brother to worry about him. Perhaps someone to keep him from doing poppers and having unprotected sex in a men’s room, in a pathetic attempt to be cool.

As Claire rinsed the flannel from the back of Vince’s neck in an ornate marble basin, Vince looked at himself in the mirror. His make-up was a disaster, and his hair was limp and soaked with sweat. His jumpsuit was stretched out and hanging all wrong on his body. Only his boots still looked good. When Claire returned, she scrubbed his face and made a fruitless attempt to fluff his hair.

“I think you need to slow down, Vince,” Claire said sweetly before glaring at Dan. She was a truly beautiful girl with apparently no artifice. If he’d met her at the zoo, Vince would probably have awkwardly flirted with her and been blown off. It was like he was a different person when he went out at night. With the right outfit, it didn’t seem to matter that he was shy or weird.

Dan certainly wouldn’t have given him a second look in the light of day.

“I’m going to take a cab back to Dan’s. Do you need a ride somewhere?” Claire asked after she’d done her best to make Vince look human.

Vince glanced at Dan, whose face was distant and unreadable.

“I think I’ll stay here a bit longer. Until I’m back on my feet.” He flushed at Claire’s knowing look, but the idea of having to stand up in his precarious boots seemed like a Herculean task, and the couch was very comfortable. And Dan was still there – within reach, and yet completely unreachable.

Xxx

Vince was spared the awkwardness of trying to initiate small talk when Dan launched into a speech.

“You have to be careful, Vince. This lifestyle will chew you up and spit you out, kid. You think you have it under control, and then suddenly you don’t. You want to be with the beautiful people, behind the velvet ropes, in the VIP rooms, doing lines with models and rock stars and being a big shot, but then what? You’re still the same asshole you were before. No matter how many pictures you have of yourself looking cool, you still know who you really are. You wake up, hung over and wishing for death, and you’re still just some fucking nothing. Christ. If I could stand, I’d get another drink.”

“But you are cool,” Vince argued. “You get all those things because people want to be around you. Isn’t that…”

Vince stopped himself from saying ‘everything.’

“I’m just a writer for a shitty magazine, Vince. I don’t even write good articles. I write shit because that’s all my editor wants, and now that I have written all these shitty articles, no one will ever take me seriously as a writer…”

“Lots of people start out doing shit then go on to do something great. It’s better that way than the other way round, right?”

Dan rolled onto his side and gave Vince a weak smile.

“You really do look a lot like my mate, Jones,” Dan said with a far-off look in his eyes. “He said… He told me… hmmm.”

“He’s in love with you.”

Dan looked comically startled by Vince’s observation.

“How did you know?”

Vince shrugged. “You seem like the kind of guy that guys fall in love with.”

Dan sat up and looked Vince straight in the eyes and asked, “Why?” He vaguely gestured towards his face and body and repeated, “Why?”

Vince stared at his boots and blushed. He felt sick and exhausted and his feet were killing him, but he still wanted to be on the floor with Dan. He wanted so badly to make a connection.

“You have nice eyes,” Vince answered truthfully. Dan’s handsome face and big hands (and bigger cock) and his deep and sonorous voice made him attractive, but it was his eyes that made Vince drop his guard. He had smallish eyes like Stitch, but while Stitch’s eyes were unfathomable, Dan’s eyes were full of vulnerability. It was his eyes that had made Vince forget the lessons he’d learned young about staying safe.

Dan smiled and his eyes crinkled in the corners.

“Like that. That would be easy to fall in love with,” Vince explained, as he gestured towards Dan’s face.

“I don’t think I fancy men,” Dan whispered though they were not completely alone in the room. “I’m not totally against the idea, and if a guy is…” Dan silently gestured towards Vince, “I can get into that, but…”

“I didn’t think I was into guys until the first time I got off with one,” Vince offered in an effort to be helpful. “Life is weird like that. You don’t know who you are until you’re that person.”

Dan laughed ruefully and said, “You don’t know who you are until you’re off your tits and fucking a drunk little boy raw in a public toilet,” before collapsing hard onto the ground. “That’s when you realize you’re a fucking piece of shit.”

Vince instinctively adopted his schoolboy-waiting-to-be-scolded-by-the-headmaster stance, with his shoulders hunched and his feet pigeon-toed.

“I’m seventeen. I’m legal n’all.”

“I’m twenty-five. Doesn’t mean I’m grown-up. I have a job and a flat and my parents are considering letting Claire move in with me next year. They still think I’m the old Dan Ashcroft.”

Vince slid off the sofa and onto the ground. 

 

“Who was the old Dan Ashcroft?”

Vince wanted to know something personal about Dan, something real. When he’d giddily followed Dan into the men’s room, he’d expected to come away feeling special for having been allowed into Dan’s exclusive and enticing world, but he’d ended up confused, crying, and terrified. The fact that he still desperately wanted to be close to Dan triggered the Howard-like voice in his head that usually warned him away from anything fun or exciting, but Howard was no match for Dan Ashcroft. Howard liked jazz and tea without sugar. How could he understand what Vince needed from Dan? 

Dan leered and patted the floor next to him. Vince scooted closer. 

“The old Dan is dead,” Dan said with mock sadness. “But new Dan still has the rest of this bottle.”

Vince’s stomach twisted at the sight of the brown bottle Dan produced from his front pocket, but he didn’t hesitate for a second when Dan offered him a sniff. He gave himself over to the dizzying want and to Dan’s hands and mouth. He could only watch and giggle as Dan struggled to remove Vince’s boots. His hands felt weightless and useless at his sides. He was dimly aware of the carpet tearing up his back as Dan fucked him hard and fast, but he felt no pain. He heard himself moaning about Dan’s big cock, but the voice sounded far away. Vince felt like an observer, watching himself get shagged on actual shag carpeting.

Xxx

Vince woke up with a pounding headache. After throwing up, taking some painkillers, and then throwing up some more, he stepped into the shower and cried out as the water hit his back. After arranging his mirrors to give him a good look, he saw that his back looked like someone had gone after him with a cheese grater. 

He tried putting medicine on his back but ended up crying and taking everything he could find in his paltry medicine cabinet that might help him sleep before going back to bed.

Xxx

Vince woke up confused and still in pain.

“Vincey!” his landlady called through the door. “Your boss is here to check on you. I told him you’ve been terribly ill.”

Vince’s eyes filled with tears for several reasons, not least because his landlady was trying to protect his job. He wiped his eyes and staggered to the door, grateful to see Howard and not Bob Fossil on the other side.

Howard winced at Vince’s appearance and took a step back.

“It must be the flu,” Mrs. Anders said in her squeaky little voice. “He’s been sick all night and all day.”

Vince nodded. “You probably shouldn’t be around me, Howard.”

“Nonsense. The Moon men are known for their vigorous immune systems,” Howard announced. “And I brought soup.”

Vince reluctantly allowed Howard into his room, and Mrs. Anders gave him a wink behind Howard’s back. She loved all her tenants, but Vince had barely turned sixteen when he’d moved in. She always insisted she needed to care for him for his mother’s sake (and they never discussed the fact that his mother never visited or called).

“Quiet night in?” Howard asked with a laddish wink before smacking Vince on the back. Vince dropped to his knees like a ragdoll. The room was spinning as Howard pulled up the back of Vince’s shirt and gasped. As the pain receded, it occurred to Vince that he would have to explain the injury to Howard. The shame he felt was overwhelming.

“No crying, Vince,” Howard tutted as he carefully pulled Vince off of the ground. “Stiff upper lip. Now, where do you keep your first aid supplies?”

Vince pointed towards the left of the two cabinets in his room. The one on the right held his plate, cup, and two mugs, as well as any food items he might have, and the left served as a medicine cabinet/overflow for his hair care products.

Howard kept up a running commentary about all the things that were wrong with Vince’s flat and lifestyle as he gathered supplies.

“There’s nothing but junk in your cupboards,” Howard scolded. “Have you heard of rice?”

“I’ve heard of Rice Krispies.”

Vince felt warmed when his joke got a laugh. Then he began crying as Howard carefully pulled up his t-shirt. Howard was blathering on about infection when it occurred to Vince that Howard was touching the open wounds on Vince’s back.

“Howard, you should be wearing gloves or something,” Vince whimpered through the pain as he tried to pull away from Howard’s firm grip on his arm. “Wash your hands.”

“I am wearing gloves,” Howard snorted. “I am never without a pair of latex gloves. Not since Bob Fossil made me massage his… Hang on. Why are you worried about me wearing gloves?”

Vince tried to think of a clever lie, but he was too tired and scared, so he stayed silent.

“Little Man,” Howard asked in his nicest tone, “is there something you want to tell me? Off the record, of course. Just between us. Don’t think of me as your supervisor, think of me as your older, wiser, worldlier, far more intelligent workmate.”

Vince tried to smile, but Howard’s kindness was his undoing. He sobbed into his pillow, and every effort to pull himself together was thwarted by Howard’s gentle reassurances that, whatever it was, Vince wouldn’t have to go through it alone.

“Have you been to the doctor?” Howard asked during a lull in Vince’s sobs. “Do you know anything for sure?”

Vince shook his head and searched for something to use to wipe his nose before Howard handed him an embroidered handkerchief. Vince looked at the monogram.

“What does the TJ stand for?”

“Tom and Jerry.”

Vince couldn’t tell if it was a joke or not, but Howard smiled when Vince laughed.

“I don’t know if anything’s wrong,” Vince admitted as Howard soothingly stroked his hair. “I just… I wasn’t careful. I think he usually is more careful, but…”

There was no way to complete the sentence. Vince couldn’t tell Howard he’d had sex with a stranger in a toilet and then went back for more. He vaguely remembered Dan tossing a used johnny into the elegant wastepaper basket as they’d exited the office. He hoped whatever girl had let Dan into the office in the first place didn’t get into trouble over that johnny. She’d probably been hoping for time alone with Dan, not to have her boss’s office turned into an infirmary/gay sex club.

Howard took his hand from Vince’s head, and Vince mourned the loss. 

“We’ll get you checked out,” Howard promised. 

“I’m sorry, Howard.”

“There’s no reason to apologize to me, Vince. I just hope you’re more careful in the future. You’re the only person I can tolerate at that zoo. I need you around!”

Vince reached out for Howard’s hand, but pulled back at the last second. Howard didn’t like being touched under the best of circumstances.

Howard took Vince’s hand and gave it a quick squeeze before scurrying off to prepare Vince’s soup. Vince watched his supervisor heat up a tin of chicken noodle and he felt profoundly lucky to have been assigned to Howard’s department. If he were working under Joey Moose, he’d still be alone and scared. There were so many things he would never be able to tell Howard—how could Howard ever understand Vince’s desperation to simply be allowed into the orbit of someone special and important?—but it was a relief to have someone literally hold his hand. When Howard awkwardly offered to purchase condoms for Vince if Vince was too embarrassed to do so himself, Vince knew that he would go to hell and back for Howard, if such a trip were ever warranted. He hadn’t been blessed with a bossy little sister to look out for him, but he had a kindly old uncle figure willing to buy him johnnies in case he ever got “swept away by passion” again. Vince cringed at the difference between his seedy affair and the relatively innocent romp that Howard seemed to be imagining. Howard still managed to see Vince as a sweet and innocent boy learning about love, and as long as Howard saw him that way, it was at least a little bit true. Vince was either going to have to clean up his act or get better at hiding his trysts from Howard. He needed Howard’s indulgent smiles and paternal lectures. He needed to know at least one person saw him as a person in need of care and support.

When he teased Howard about dating in the fifties, Howard protested at first but then told Vince, “You had to take a girl to two sock hops and a mixer before you were allowed to look her directly in the eye.”

“What did it take to hold someone’s hand?”

Howard shrugged, his cheeks pink, and said, “I never got that far. I’m a gentleman.”

Vince laughed, but he was curious about the blush. Howard was a nice-looking guy, if a bit unkempt, but women didn’t seem to appreciate his peculiar sense of humor or his crazy stalker courting techniques. Vince tried to imagine Howard, red faced and panting, shagging some librarian or elderly jazz enthusiast. It was hard to picture, but once the image was in Vince’s head, it had a certain appeal. 

“Someday, we’ll meet a couple of nice girls,” Vince said. “Maybe a mother-daughter or daughter-grandmother team, and we’ll take them to every sock hop in town until they’re willing to put out for a little hand-holding.”

Howard once again blushed. “That sounds like a plan, Little Man.”

Xxx

Howard was as good as his word and got Vince through the arduous process of being checked for STDs. It took months for Vince to feel at ease. He stopped going out and just spent his nights at home, watching telly. 

The only person he talked to was Howard, and he told Howard more than he’d ever intended. He kept quiet about his sex life, but he admitted to feeling ashamed every time they went to the clinic. When Howard was invariably mistaken for Vince’s boyfriend, Vince hated that it looked like he’d been cheating on Howard. Everything about it felt seedy and shameful, and it made Vince want to give up on sex for good.

“Yes, Vince is my lover,” Howard told the nurse as she drew Vince’s blood for a second HIV test. “But I made some mistakes. I never meant to be unfaithful, but the Moon men are known for their rapacious sexual appetites…”

Vince struggled to stifle his laughter as Howard played the role of the cad. Howard was incapable of acting normal. He was marvelously weird.

“Thanks for that,” Vince whispered when they were alone.

Howard smiled and ruffled Vince’s hair. “I thought it might make the visit a little less uncomfortable if you knew everyone was judging me instead of you.”

Vince ignored the tension in Howard’s body as he hugged the big man around the waist and thanked him for being such a good mate.

“I’ll be glad when this is all over and I know I’m clean,” Vince said as he tried to get his emotions under control. He didn’t want to start blubbering in public. “I mean, assuming I am clean…”

Howard frowned. “Having an STD doesn’t make a person dirty, Little Man. It’s outdated terminology.”

Vince looked at Howard’s worried face, and his stomach dropped. Normally, Howard was full of blustery confidence. Seeing him looking concerned for Vince’s health made everything seem painfully real.

“What if I have something bad?” Vince whispered. He wasn’t sure he’d ever have enough HIV tests to reassure him that the virus wasn’t just lying dormant in his blood, waiting to make an entrance.

“They have medications,” Howard said softly. “They have treatments. People are living a long time and staying healthy…”

“I always thought I’d like to have a couple of kids,” Vince said, as his stomach clenched with fear. “Maybe I can’t ever meet a girl or have children… and I wouldn’t be able to date guys either… I’ve never even gone all the way with a girl.”

“People with HIV date, they have sex,” Howard said firmly. Vince was amazed at Howard’s ability to say the name out loud without fear. “Even if… If you have it, you’ll meet other people. Maybe you’ll meet someone with kids, or you can adopt.”

Vince suddenly felt sorry for all the people in the world living with STDs. He’d only ever considered the health part. He’d never thought about things like dating. 

“And you can still be careful,” Howard added. “I’m not saying you can only be with someone who has the virus. People can be… careful.”

“Would you be with someone with… the disease?” Vince couldn’t say it out loud. “Wouldn’t you be afraid?”

Howard looked Vince dead in the eye and said, “If I loved someone, nothing would change my mind. I would find a way to make it work.”

Vince gave the big man another hug. If he knew a thing about finding ladies, he’d make it his mission to find a nice lady for Howard. He needed someone to look after him, to make him tuck in his shirt and comb his hair. Under Howard’s mustache and ill-fitting clothes, he had a heart of gold, and someone would be lucky to have him.

“That’s enough of that, Vince,” Howard said in his bossiest tone as he pushed Vince away. “I’m playing the role of a Lothario here. I might want to get the nurse’s phone number, and that’s not going to happen if I have your snot rubbed all over my jacket, now is it?”


	4. Julie B.

It was Howard that spotted the flier.

“Look at this berk! DJ Jones. A multisensory experience? Every idiot with a laptop thinks they’re a DJ these days.”

Vince stared at the photo in shock. The man was older than Vince. He looked like a proper man under his eyeliner, but the resemblance was undeniable.

“He looks a bit like me, don’t he?” Vince asked, posing next to the flier and trying to emulate Jones’s intense stare.

Howard frowned, but nodded. 

“There’s a resemblance, to be sure. He looks a bit older and more like a man, rather than a tiny woodland sprite.”

Vince was sure it wasn’t meant as a compliment, but he liked the idea of being a sprite. He’d always wanted to be something magical.

Vince read the flier carefully. It had to be the same Jones.

“Don’t tell me you’re actually interested in this nonsense? Or are you just going to hit on your doppelganger? Taking narcissism to its logical conclusion?”

Vince felt his face turn red. Howard had asked once if Vince could find a way to contact the man he’d been with and ask if he’d been recently tested, but he’d let it go when Vince had made a song and dance of avoiding the question. Vince could easily track down Dan Ashcroft, but he didn’t dare. He preferred the uncertainty of the endless STD testing to the humiliation of not being recognized or being told to piss off. 

But if he could just bump into Dan at a show, that would be different. Vince could play it cool. He’d have to practice playing it cool in the mirror for a while, but he was sure he could do it. He wasn’t sure what he wanted from Dan, but he needed some kind of closure on that night. He was tired of feeling like an open wound.

Vince startled when Howard touched his shoulder.

“Whoa there, Vince.” Howard mimed like he was trying to calm a frightened llama. He was joking, but Vince was aware that Howard was leaving space between them, as though Vince would ever need distance from Howard. Of anyone he’d ever met, Howard was the safest. Howard was the human equivalent of wooly jumper.

“The other act, The Pod, they look… interesting,” Vince said as he attempted to regain his composure. “This says they transcend musical genres as fast as they create them. I don’t know what that means, but it sounds well arty. You should come.”

The words were out of his mouth and they could not be retrieved. Vince had just invited Howard to try and help him track down some guy he’d had sex with in a public bathroom. 

Fortunately, Howard laughed at the idea. He assured Vince he had no interest in seeing a couple of “titboxes” banging a conch shell on a keyboard and calling it art. Vince was going to call Howard out on being unfair, but then he noticed the sketch on the flier was of two lanky young men banging conch shells on keyboards.

It looked kind of cool.

Xxx

Vince went for an entirely new look, with flares and a Stones t-shirt he’d personalized and a denim jacket. He’d recently lightened his hair, and it made him look like the bad guy from Karate Kid. Vince had decided to embrace the resemblance and the entire eighties aesthetic.

If Dan didn’t recognize him, he could always blame it on the hair.

The club was packed, and Vince had to wait in line for hours. He had to put on a bit more makeup to finally get through the door. Vince was so accustomed to people thinking he was girly, it hadn’t occurred to him that he could be too masculine-looking to get into a club. It was weirdly flattering. Vince wanted to have a flexible aesthetic.

Jones was already performing when Vince walked in. The music was jarring and scary, but Jones looked amazing. His tables were like a pawn shop counter, covered in bizarre curios, and his hair had to be at least eight different colors. Vince felt inspired. He scanned the crowd for Dan for a few songs before trying to make his way towards the bar. No sooner did he turn around than he walked headlong into a familiar form.

Vince yelled: “You’re here!”

All his hours practicing an indifferent response to Dan had been in vain.

The man tilted his head, looking deep in thought for a full minute before answering, “Yes. Yes, I am here. Thanks. I needed to hear that.”

Dan Ashcroft would never look so… tribal as the man in front of him. What he had initially mistaken for curls were actually tiny little braids sticking out all over the man’s head. He also had henna tattoos running down his neck to the pale, bare chest peeking out from under his orange jacket. He was probably the only person in the club who did not look like anyone else, and that alone was enough to warrant Vince’s attention.

“Are you a musician?” Vince asked hopefully. If the man wasn’t in a band, one needed to be formed for him right away. His look shouldn’t be going to waste.

“I am one half of the art collective called The Pod.”

“Is that a band?”

“We utilize the variation of sound waves through different media to create new and innovative aural and spiritual experiences.”

“So… is it a band?”

The man looked thoughtful before finally answering, “Sure. We’re a band. A band of spirits, a band of thoughts, a band of…”

“I like guys in bands,” Vince said boldly. “I’m called Vince.”

The man again seemed to think hard before answering, “I’m called… Julie B.” 

“Genius!”

“Such an overused word, it’s lost all meaning. Mozart was a genius, and so is a sale at Tesco. What are words when we strip them of their context and meaning?”

“Letters?” Vince offered helpfully.

Julie B.’s eyes widened in awe. “You might be a genius.”

Xxx

Vince was baffled by The Pod, but he couldn’t look away. For one of their songs, they plugged a synthesizer into a potted plant. There was a song where they did nothing but list postal codes. They weren’t always easy to dance to, but Vince was mesmerized, mainly by Julie B. Vince was clearly developing a tall, dark, and handsome type, and Julie B. fit the profile. He was also in a band, which was a big selling point for Vince. 

After the show, Vince tracked Julie B. down and invited him for a drink at the bar. Vince had a lager and Julie B. had a cranberry juice with lime.

“Do you not drink?” Vince asked.

“I’m drinking right now,” Julie B. explained as he sipped his fruit juice.

“I mean alcohol.”

Julie B. took a deep breath and gazed meaningfully at the wall.

“Janus 15 and I are trying to create a sound so beautiful, so horrible, so terrifying, that it sears itself into the minds and souls of our audience, leaving them forever changed, though they look the same.”

“That’s a pretty big goal,” Vince observed. “You sound like my mate, Howard. I always tell him to maybe start with something a little more realistic…”

“We need to have it ready for next month to reveal at a Sugar Ape office party.”

“Well, good luck, then. I’m sure it will be genius.” 

Julie B. smiled. “That word. Until that performance, Janus 15 and I have sworn off all vices, except of course, the vanity required to write music. We need that one.”

“So no drugs or drink… Sex?”

“We are remaining celibate.”

“Are you and Janus 15… you know. Lovers?”

Julie B. briefly lost his visionary expression and wrinkled up his nose before saying, “Ew, no.” Julie B. leaned forward and whispered, “He’s a vegetarian, but he always smells vaguely of bacon, and he’s always ‘accidentally’ borrowing my pants when he doesn’t do his laundry.”

Although Janus 15 sounded nothing like Howard, Vince recognized the dynamic of deep love and near constant annoyance, so it was not entirely untrue when he said, “Sounds like my mate, Howard.”

Xxx

Vince initiated the first kiss, in the alley behind the club, but Julie B. responded enthusiastically. Vince was buzzed on lager and intoxicated by Julie B.’s pale skin and kind eyes. He was a visionary like Rosey, aloof but vulnerable like Stitch, and fucking sexy and cool like Dan. If Julie B wanted to push Vince up against the wall and have his way with him, Vince had no intention of saying no. He’d come prepared with johnnies, mainly in case he ran into Dan, but for the first time in a long time, he actually wanted to touch someone (other than Howard) and be touched in return. Julie B. made him feel attractive and strangely comfortable. 

Vince ran his hand over Julie B.’s crotch, but his hand was promptly pushed away.

“Celibate,” Julie B said between kisses.

It hadn’t occurred to Vince that Julie B. was sincere about not having sex. He’d assumed it was part of his persona and how he picked up partners. 

So, for the first time in his life, Vince snogged a man without having sex with him. He wanted to tell Howard, thinking his supervisor would appreciate his old-timey romantic experience, but he ultimately decided Howard would probably balk at the snogging of a stranger in an alleyway. Still, Vince felt proud of the maturity of his latest relationship.

Xxx

Vince did not call Julie B. his boyfriend, because Julie B. hated labels (as evidenced by all the naked tins in his cupboards and the fact that he wasn’t quite sure what size trouser he wore). Julie B. did not want to be known as gay, straight, bi, or pan, and Vince could relate to that. He often felt like none of the labels applied to him fit quite right. On the other hand, Vince would never cut the labels out of his clothes. In fact, he sometimes picked up clothes at thrift shops, just so he could steal the trendier labels and sew them into his own clothes. 

Despite their differences when it came to fashion and pop music (Vince enjoyed the kind of music Julie B. felt was destroying humanity), Vince was in his first proper relationship. Julie B. was not in love with anyone else, and while he stayed true to his celibacy pact, he and Vince would snog for hours at a time until their lips were bruised and swollen. Howard scolded Vince for a visible love bite, and Vince couldn’t stop blushing for the rest of the day. Everything in his blighted love life had happened so fast, but with Julie B., Vince was able to take his time. 

Howard even asked to meet Julie B. Vince was terrified that Julie B. and Howard would find each other unbearable (because truly, they were both completely unbearable, but in a fun way), but he arranged for Julie B. to drop by for lunch at the zoo.

When Julie B. arrived at the Keeper Hut, Howard said, “So you’re Julie B.”

Julie B. thought hard, stroked his own arm, and finally answered, “Yes. I am still Julie B. Thanks for noticing.”

Despite the awkward start, Julie B. and Howard soon landed on the topic of avant garde jazz. When Vince said he hated jazz, Howard inevitably responded, “You fear jazz,” but in some cases, Howard was absolutely correct. The experimental pieces he played for Vince, the kind that Julie B. enjoyed, were terrifying. They were like nightmares being scraped across out-of-tune guitars and smashed between cars.

“But you have to admit Tyrone ‘Dead for Four Minutes’ Jones was the master of the flugelhorn,” Julie B. said with some authority.

“Dead for Four Minutes?” Vince asked. Both Howard and Julie B. began to respond, but Howard ended up deferring and letting Julie B. speak. Vince felt like it was a Very Good Sign.

“He once sustained a note so long and pure that he went into cardiac arrest and was dead for four minutes before being revived,” Julie B. explained.

“After they used the paddles on him, he grabbed his horn and jumped straight back into the solo. Didn’t even need to be counted in—he’d been keeping the beat from the other side,” Howard continued. “Not even death could knock him out of the pocket.”

Vince looked at Julie B. and Howard and noticed there was actually a physical resemblance, beyond the tall, dark, and handsome(ish). Julie B.’s features were so sharp that he looked like a high concept vegetable slicer in a knit cap, but if Vince squinted, he could blur the features until Julie B. looked a bit softer, like Howard. It was an uncomfortable realization, because Howard was a brother/father figure, and Julie B. was someone Vince was desperate to shag. After two weeks of endless snogging, Vince was obsessed with getting Julie B. naked, and he didn’t want thoughts of Howard creeping into his mindtank when he finally had his chance.

When they had to go back to work, Vince was dizzy with nerves. Lunch had gone well, but if Howard hated Julie B., Vince wasn’t sure he could handle it. 

“Well, he seems like a complete nutter,” Howard said when they were at a safe distance.

“Yeah,” Vince agreed. “He is well weird.”

“Does he treat you well?”

Vince blushed and avoided Howard’s eyes. “He’s really nice. Really sweet. I like him a lot.”

“I’m happy for you, Vince. You deserve a nice guy.”

Vince gave Howard a tight hug around the waist and literally ran away to get to work before Howard had a chance to say, “Don’t touch me.”

Xxx

Vince didn’t understand The Pod, but that seemed irrelevant. A band wasn’t about having tunes or playing real instruments; it was about looking cool, and the Pod were totally cool on stage. Off stage, Janus 15 was a bit nerdy and bookish, and Julie B. actually liked jazz music, but on stage, they were a progressive machine. 

Janus 15 rubbed some marmalade on the mic and said, “Testing, testing.”

Julie B. frowned.

“More marmalade.”

Janus 15 slathered more marmalade on the mic cover, but Vince could see his heart wasn’t in it.

“What’s wrong, Janus 15? You guys sound great. The show is going to be a huge hit,” Vince promised.

Julie B. heaved a sigh and dropped onto the couch next to Vince.

“It doesn’t matter how good the show is, bloody Dan Ashcroft is going to rip us to shreds.”

Vince was shocked to hear the name coming from Julie B.’s mouth, like Julie B. had been reading Vince’s private journal (if such a thing existed). He hadn’t once mentioned Dan to Julie B. He didn’t think it would be a good idea, especially with Julie B. being so serious about sex. Vince was certain Julie B. would not be judgmental, but Vince still didn’t feel ready to reveal something that still filled him with shame.

“Dan Ashcroft?”

Janus 15 moaned and hung his head.

“He’s a pretentious twat,” Julie B. said as he lined his shoes with bubble wrap so he’d feel less “oppressed by gravity” during the gig. “He doesn’t understand music or art or performance…”

“Or writing reviews that don’t involve swear words,” Janus 15 added.

Vince felt guilty by association. He was not at all surprised that Dan hated The Pod, but he was surprised The Pod cared. Julie B. never seemed to care about anyone else’s opinion of his music.

“It’s just a review…”

“Sugar Ape is hugely influential in this area,” Julie B. explained. “His reviews affect our bookings.”

“And they hurt our feelings,” Janus 15 added. 

“Maybe you could talk to him and explain what you’re trying to do,” Vince suggested. He tried to imagine Julie B. and Dan Ashcroft having a conversation. On one hand, it couldn’t possibly go well. On the other hand, the mental image of Dan and Julie B. face-to-face was turning Vince on a bit. “Maybe I could talk to him…”

Julie B.’s eyes narrowed, and Vince felt as though he’d been caught in a lie.

“Not that he’d care what I have to say,” Vince added. “I just mean, someone could appeal to his softer side.”

“Dan Ashcroft is the devil,” Janus 15 said with authority. Julie B. didn’t say anything; he just kept staring at Vince.

Xxx

After Janus 15 had left, Vince curled up on the couch next to Julie B. and kissed him on the ear. He loved how pale his ears were against his dark curls.

“Were you and Dan Ashcroft lovers?” Julie B. asked out of the blue.

“What? What are you even…? Why would you…? We had sex once. Twice, but it was the same night, and he doesn’t even know who I am.”

Julie B. pulled Vince into his lap and kissed him on the forehead. “I don’t think anyone could forget you, Vince Noir, rock’n’roll star.”

Vince curled up his legs and enjoyed the feeling of being wrapped up in Julie B.’s slim frame. 

“He was off his tits, I was stupid. It was nothing, and I didn’t really want you to know about it.”

“You look a bit like Dan’s flatmate, Jones,” Julie B. pointed out.

Vince had clearly seen the resemblance, but he still felt flattered by the comparison.

“I thought I knew what was going on under all that hair, but now I’m not sure,” Julie B. said as he stroked Vince’s legs. It wasn’t a sexual movement, but Vince immediately felt it in his cock.

“What do you mean? There’s nothing going on under this hair.”

“I think part of the reason Dan Ashcroft hates me so much is because sometimes people confuse us,” Julie B. said with a meaningful look. “People often ask me if we’re related.”

Vince put his head on Julie B.’s shoulder.

“The first time I saw you, I thought you were Dan for a moment, but that’s nothing to do with why I like you. You’ve been the total opposite of Dan. I really like you, Julie.”

“Julie B.”

“I really like you, Julie B. I don’t want you thinking I don’t fancy you for you.”

Julie B. pursed his lips.

“Is it Dan you saw in me at first?” Julie B. asked. “Or was it Howard?”

“What does Howard have to do with this? He wasn’t at the club.”

“Howard looks exactly like my uncle Mort. You can’t have failed to notice the resemblance between us.”

Vince shuddered. “I noticed a little, but it’s just weird. He’s like my boss/dad. I don’t think he even has sex. He doesn’t like being touched.”

“He’s a paternal figure in your life. You look up to him and associate him with safety…”

“Howard’s my mate. I’m not entirely sure he has a dick. He’s wound so tight, I don’t know a thing about him. He could be all smooth like a Barbie doll down there.”

“An aloof father figure…”

“Quit making it sound creepy!” Vince yelled as he covered his ears. “This couch is for snogging, not for talking about Howard.”

Julie B. gently pulled Vince’s hands from the sides of his face.

“It’s perfectly normal to experience a sexual attraction to a parental figure. Look at Oedipus.”

“Oedipus ain’t an example of normal.”

“The Oedipus complex. It’s a natural experience.”

“I remember reading Oedipus at school. That shit weren’t natural.”

xxx

Vince wore a skintight black “The Pod” t-shirt, a pair of tight red trousers, silver cowboy boots, and a feather boa. Vince wasn’t sure if it was cool, but he liked the outfit, and Julie B. had said it was important that Vince dress in a way that would cause him to emit positive energy.

Vince was desperate for the gig to go well. It was unlikely that Dan would be writing a positive review, but after the show, Julie B. would no longer have to be celibate, and Vince didn’t want anything ruining Julie B.’s mood. Vince was glad he’d had a chance to take things slow and really get to know Julie B. and savor the more innocent aspects of being physical with another man, but it had been a month and Vince was gagging for a shag.

“Clubbing has a reputation as something young, beautiful, cool people do for fun and excitement,” Julie B. announced at the beginning of their set. “We’d like to challenge that idea and see if clubbing can’t be something more.”

Vince let himself get lost in the sound of Julie B.’s voice and tried not to worry about the words too much. Especially when Julie B. and Janus 15 spent fifteen minutes reciting depressing facts over a thumping bass line. Vince lost himself in the music and fantasies of what would happen later that night, when he had Julie B. to himself.

“Is this idiot singing about the city of India?” a familiar voice asked. “Is it part of the act, or are they really that stupid?”

Vince suddenly found himself face to face with an annoyed-looking Dan Ashcroft.

Dan narrowed his eyes and gave Vince a questioning look.

“Vince?” he offered helpfully.

Dan nodded and looked painfully uncomfortable. “Yeah. Um. How are you?”

And that was Dan Ashcroft sober. He looked ready to crawl out of his skin and completely disgusted by everything and everyone around him.

“Great,” Vince yelled, making sure to never stop dancing. “How are you?”

It was absurd small talk, but Vince was at a loss. He couldn’t deny still feeling attracted to Dan, but it was different. Dan no longer looked like a reckless wild man. He actually looked a bit like Howard. Vince wondered how he’d failed to notice the premature crow’s feet before that gave Dan’s eyes such a charming squint. 

“If any of the windows in this building opened, I would throw myself out of it.”

Vince gave Dan a pat on the arm. 

“Relax!” Vince suggested. “Enjoy it. Everyone is having a good time… now that they aren’t talking about feline AIDS anymore.”

Dan gave a bitter laugh.

“This is what passes for entertainment in Shoreditch,” Dan mused.

Vince shrugged. “It’s weird. Weird is good.”

“Julie B. is staring at you,” Dan pointed out. Vince suddenly felt nervous and shot Julie B. his most radiant smile. He didn’t want Julie B. to be worried about who Vince was really there to see.

“He’s my boyfriend,” Vince explained. “He says you’re going to write a terrible review, but I think he’s wrong.”

“I’m pretty sure he’s right. This is bollocks.”

Vince shook his head. “No. You won’t write a good review, but look at this crowd. Tell me there isn’t something interesting happening here.”

Dan looked thoughtful. “I did pass a guy in a leisure suit calling his mum to say he loved her.”

“That’s the power of the Pod!” Vince yelled before throwing himself back into the dancing. He didn’t look back for Dan; he just let himself get lost in Julie B.’s voice. He was describing the seven faces of a tree, and due to artistic integrity, had included in the song that he didn’t actually remember all the faces, just some. 

Xxx

Vince and Julie B. held hands as they walked to Julie B.’s flat.

“I saw you talking to Dan Ashcroft.”

Vince felt guilty. “I told him I was there with you and that your band is special.”

Julie B. smiled. “That’s what I love about you, Vince Noir. You’re so full of positive energy. You rejuvenate my spirit. I’m not surprised Dan sought you out. His spirit is on its last legs.”

“He just stumbled into me,” Vince corrected. “And you guys are special. You saw how the crowd loved you, even the ones what were crying.”

Julie B. stopped and turned to face Vince.

“You are the most beautiful creature I have ever laid eyes on.”

Vince didn’t swoon at the words, and for the rest of the walk to Julie B.’s apartment, he mentally kicked himself for missing his chance to fall into Julie B.’s arms. How he would have loved to be carried home by Julie B., his knight in shiny silver trousers.

Xxx

Vince expected to head straight to the bedroom, but they ended up snogging on Julie B.’s couch, as they had been doing for over a month. When he tried to undo Julie B.’s trousers, he was pushed away.

“It’s been over two months since I…” Julie B. waved towards his family jewels.

“Then you should be happy about what I’m about to do,” Vince teased as he licked his lips.

“Entirely too happy,” Julie B. explained. “If you touch my cock, it’s going to explode.”

“Good! Let me make you come,” Vince purred, hoping to sound sexy.

“Is that really what you want?”

It was such a bizarre question, even for a man like Julie B.

“Of course! I want to see you get off. It’s been so long. I just want to make you feel good. The only performance I care about is the one you gave at Sugar Ape, and that was genius.”

Julie B. smiled and gave Vince a long and passionate kiss.

“I’m in no rush,” Julie B. explained. “I’ve enjoyed being with you without all the bodily fluids and the clean up.”

“I’ll clean you up,” Vince promised as he again worked on Julie B’s trousers.

“I want to do right by you,” Julie B. confessed, looking somewhat embarrassed. “You’ve been very patient and supportive, and… I don’t want to come in two seconds and ruin the evening.”

Vince pushed Julie B. until he was flat on his back on the sofa.

“I am going to suck your cock until your eyes cross,” Vince promised. He kissed his way around Julie B.’s chest before undoing his trousers completely. Julie B.’s cock throbbed in Vince’s hand, and his pants were wet from where he was leaking with excitement. He gave Julie B.’s cock a few warm up strokes through the pants, but before he could even get the last piece of material out of the way, Julie B. tensed and groaned and came in Vince’s hand. 

Julie B. looked embarrassed, but Vince felt amazing. 

“That was so fucking hot,” he whispered. “I can’t believe I made you come like that. I know it’s the celibacy…”

“It isn’t just the celibacy,” Julie B. said softly. “You’re very beautiful, Vince Noir.”

Vince fussed with his hair and tried to subtly suck in his cheeks. 

“I’m not talking about your gorgeous face or your amazing body,” Julie B. added. “I mean you are beautiful.” 

“Let’s go in the bedroom, yeah? I want you to fuck me before I start blubbering.”

Xxx

Julie B. went on about all the ways they could “express their physical desire,” but Vince wanted to get bummed. There was something to be said for every sex act, but having a man inside of him was the most exciting and intimate. 

“I haven’t actually experienced this particular act,” Julie B. admitted, looking twitchier than normal. “I don’t want to rush things.”

Vince guided Julie B. through the process and nearly came from having his prostate stroked by Julie B’s long and slender fingers. His thighs were twitching and he was aching for release, but he wanted to come with Julie B. inside of him.

He guided Julie B’s cock into his tight passage as they stared into each other’s eyes. The eye contact was almost as intimate as the penetration. It only took a few strokes for Vince to come, but he held Julie B. tight the whole time and curled up in Julie B.’s arms afterwards.

“That was amazing,” he whispered. Vince had never had sex with someone who truly wanted him before. He’d always been someone’s second choice. He admitted as much to Julie B. and was rewarded with an even tighter embrace.

“You are second to none, Vince Noir.”

Xxx

Vince fell asleep in Julie B.’s arms but startled awake in the middle of the night. Julie B. was looking down at him.

“You were having a nightmare, I think,” Julie B. explained.

Vince couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a nightmare, though they had been pretty standard occurrences throughout his childhood.

“Fuck me, Julie B.,” Vince begged as he pulled Julie B. on top of him. “You feel so good inside of me.”

Julie B. didn’t need much encouragement, and soon enough, he had Vince pinned to the mattress and was preparing him for another round.

“Want you so bad,” Vince murmured as Julie B. rubbed his cock against Vince’s arse. “It’s going to feel so good when you put it in me.”

“Be patient,” Julie B. said with a surprising amount of authority. There was something odd about the way he spoke, but Vince liked it. Julie B. said, “I’m going to take good care of you,” as he slipped the head of his cock inside. He gave a few thrusts until he was at least halfway in. Then he added, “I’ve got you, Little Man.”

Vince gasped at the nickname and dug his nails into Julie B.’s back, trying to get him deeper, faster. 

“Christy,” he whispered as Julie B.’s cock hit him in just the right spot over and over again. “Perfect.”

“Does that feel good, Little Man?” Vince recognized what was off about Julie B.’s speaking voice. He was throwing in a hint of a Northern accent.

“Julie B.”

“Go ahead and say it,” Julie B. said with a wicked smile as he fucked Vince with a steady rhythm. 

Vince closed his eyes and put his hands on Julie B.’s broad shoulders.

“Howard,” Vince whispered before coming hard on Julie B.’s stomach. For a moment, he felt a touch of guilt, but Julie B. was grinning like a maniac and looking proud of himself. Vince decided he’d deal with his brain in the morning. For a few more hours, he could just focus on feeling good.

Xxx

Vince was sore and exhausted when he went into work. He and Julie B. had spent two solid days making up for lost time, and Vince was tender all over.

Not that he regretted a moment. He didn’t regret giving Julie B. a blowjob in the shower that morning or being bent over the kitchen table while their breakfast got cold. He didn’t regret riding Julie B.’s cock on the couch while they’d watched early morning cartoons, right before Vince had to go to work. 

He did slightly regret the night before, when Julie B. had given him a spanking and scolded him for not cleaning the monkey cages until Vince had promised to be a good boy if only “Howard” would fuck him. The role play had been insanely hot at the time, but in the cold light of day, it just seemed perverse.

“Rough night?” Howard asked as Vince walked into the hut.

“What are you talking about?” Vince squeaked. “You’ve been listening to too much jazz. It’s made you go wrong in the head.”

Howard looked confused.

“Something wrong, Little Man?”

Vince felt a blush move from his cheeks down to his toes. He wasn’t sure if he’d told Julie B. about the nickname or if Howard had used it during their lunch, but Julie B. had picked up on its significance, a significance Vince hadn’t noticed himself.

The worst part was that when he’d tried to tell Julie B. why it was weird and wrong to even think of Howard as a sexual person, Julie B. hadn’t understood at all. The more he’d explained about how Howard had taken care of him after every awkward sexual encounter, especially the Dan Ashcroft incident, the more Julie B. seemed to think it was normal for Vince to perv on his best friend.

“Julie B. had a big gig this weekend,” Vince explained as he stared at his boots. “Just tired, is all.”

“How were the reviews?” Howard asked so gently that Vince wanted to punch him. He wanted to punish Howard for being so present and concerned right when Vince needed him to be indifferent and self-involved.

“Not too bad. Sugar Ape called it passable as entertainment.”

Howard smiled. “There you go. That’s high praise for a bunch of nonsense.”

After Howard left the room and put the kettle on, it occurred to Vince he should have defended the Pod, but their music was nonsense to pretty much everyone but Julie B. and Janus 15. To Vince, that was the point of the Pod. They truly made no effort to make the crowd happy. They did was they wanted to and went home and complained about the poor reviews. Vince admired their confidence and the way Julie B. and Janus 15 could disregard the rest of the world, as long as they supported one another. In a way, it was a bit like Howard and Vince, except theirs was more of a one-way street. Howard took care of Vince, but there was never really a chance for Vince to reciprocate. Vince wondered if that was why he had sexual fantasies about Howard, because it would be a way to even things out between them. Vince didn’t have much else to offer.

“Come have your tea,” Howard ordered from the other room. “You’ve got a busy day today. The monkey cage needs to be cleaned, and I saw Bob Fossil feeding those hairy bastards nachos last night.”

Vince tried very hard not to think about monkey cages.

“Howard, when you worked with Tommy… were the two of you close?”

Howard’s shoulders fell, and Vince immediately regretted the question. Howard blathered on about Tommy all the time, but he always got sad when other people mentioned his former boss and mentor.

“I admired him a great deal, Vince. He was a great man. He taught me everything I know. Unfortunately, he didn’t teach me everything he knew, so we’ll probably never find the extra key ring or where he put the first aid kit…”

“I mean, personally. Were you… close?”

Vince felt unsettled as Howard’s body went stiff. “What do you mean? Close?”

“Were you friends? Did you talk about personal stuff, like we do?”

Howard’s cheeks turned pink and he suddenly remembered he needed to restock the coffee filters, but Vince followed him.

“I’m not being funny,” Vince said sincerely. “I was just thinking about how you’re always helping me out and looking after me, and I wondered if that’s what it was like with Tommy.”

“Tommy helped me through some hard times,” Howard said quietly. Vince desperately wanted to know more, but Howard was making it clear he wasn’t about to open up. For a moment, Vince imagined getting on his knees and sucking Howard off. He could almost hear the quiet noises Howard would make as he tried not to draw attention to the hut as Vince licked and sucked and made him come. 

When Vince had asked Julie B. if he wanted to play like Vince was Janus 15, Julie B. had actually shuddered and said, “Janus 15 is my best friend and partner, and he is a beautiful person, but I don’t want him anywhere near my genitalia. That’s why it makes me so angry when he borrows my pants. He keeps saying, ‘then label them,’ because he knows how much I hate labels!”

And though he hadn’t said as much, Vince was pretty sure Julie B. didn’t normally fancy men and that Vince was an exception. Vince wondered if he looked pretty enough if Howard might not being willing to make an exception as well.

“Let’s get to work, Little Man,” Howard said, patting Vince on the shoulder as he passed. Vince remembered how safe and loved he’d felt in Julie B.’s arms, being called ‘Little Man’ and being treated like someone special and beautiful. 

“Julie B. is going to leave me.”

Howard stopped at the door and turned around, concern in his tiny little eyes. 

“They’re going on a tour of Germany with some angry DJs, and then they’re going to open for some death metal bands in Sweden…”

Howard put his hand on Vince’s shoulder. “He’ll back. I know it sounds like a long time, but we’ll find ways to keep you busy…”

Vince’s cock immediately responded, and he ended up physically pushing Howard out of the way and running to the relative safety of the monkey cages.

Xxx

Vince ran straight into a small man in a turban, knocking them both to the ground.

“Sorry,” Vince apologized. “I’m in a hurry to… clean monkey crap.”

The small man allowed Vince to help him to his feet.

“Um, do you work at the zoo?” Vince asked. If the man wasn’t taking over the psychic kiosk, then he was simply wearing the best zoo outfit Vince had ever seen. 

The man gestured towards the now camel-shaped psychic kiosk.

“So you’re Naboo the Enigma? Genius.”

The small man nodded and began moving gracefully towards the kiosk. He left behind a scent of distant lands and really high-quality weed. 

When Vince arrived at the monkey cages, he was sad to see Howard had not been joking about the nachos. 

“You’d better appreciate this, Howard,” he mumbled to himself. Maybe he was having sexual fantasies about Howard because his only current method of making the older man happy was doing all of the grossest jobs at the zoo.

“Stop worrying about that ballbag,” Davy Jones whined. “I feel like my insides are on fire!”

Vince dropped his shovel.

“Now everybody just calm down and let Vince do his job,” Mike Nesmith said with his usual calm. 

Vince pinched his own arm, and it hurt.

“Quit mucking about and get to… mucking,” Micky Dolenz snapped as he held his stomach.

“The cage won’t clean itself.”

Vince jumped at Howard’s voice. 

“There’s something wrong with the Monkees,” Vince whispered.

“I know. They ate nachos.”

“Don’t talk about us like we’re not here,” Pete Tork whimpered. “That’s rude and demeaning.”

Howard kept looking at Vince like nothing was out of the ordinary.

“Come on, Little Man. Some back-breaking labor will take your mind off your troubles,” Howard suggested gently.

“Yeah, Little Man,” Micky yelled. “Get to cleaning.”

“Do you hear something… strange?” Vince whispered to Howard. 

Howard cocked his head and looked very serious. Lines appeared around his eyes and mouth as he concentrated. Julie B. insisted Howard couldn’t be more than 25, despite the lines on his face. Julie B. said that if the lines went away when Howard’s face was relaxed, they weren’t actually wrinkles yet. Vince was the first to concede that, for all his strangeness, Julie B. was incredibly intelligent, but he was certain Julie B. was dead wrong about Howard. Howard was definitely not younger than Julie B. 

“Please, Vince. We promise not to give you a hard time,” Mike said in his reassuring voice.

“I hear angry monkey screeching,” Howard said. “Am I meant to hear something else?”

Vince looked at the camel-shaped kiosk where Naboo the Enigma was looking properly inscrutable. 

“No. I think I’m just having a weird day,” Vince said before letting himself into the cage. Despite their agitation, the Monkees kept to Mike’s promise to not deal Vince a mauling. In fact, they did a nice version of “Daydream Believer” as Vince worked.

Xxx

“I can understand animals,” Vince announced as soon as he walked through the door. Julie B. gave him a lingering kiss and asked to hear more. Vince had been prepared for an hour of convincing Julie B. he wasn’t insane. He wasn’t sure how to proceed.

“I bumped into the new zoo psychic, and then when I went to clean the monkey cage with the Monkees – the ones Fossil named – I could hear them talking, and it wasn’t just them. They all talk. All the animals talk now.”

“Did they impart any wisdom to you?”

“No. They just told me to work faster and said Howard was a dick.”

Julie B. looked mildly disappointed. “Well, perhaps when you get to know them better.”

Xxx

Vince straddled Julie B.’s waist and lowered himself onto his partner’s erect cock. It was awkward, but he loved watching Julie B.’s face as their bodies joined. He always looked so surprised to be having sex.

“I’m going to miss this,” Vince purred as he slowly worked himself on Julie B.’s cock. 

“There are plenty of other men,” Julie B. hissed. “You’ll find someone.”

Vince stopped moving and pouted.

“Don’t you even care?”

Julie B. smiled and stroked the side of Vince’s face.

“As long as there is a chance I can survive making the music I want to make, I’m going to chase those opportunities, and you have your own thing at the zoo… which has recently gotten a bit more complicated.”

“So, we’ll just… move one.” 

“We’ll move apart. I’m not leaving you behind, Vince. That’s not what’s happening.”

Vince couldn’t bear any more of Julie B.’s insight, so he made damn sure Julie B. wasn’t capable of speech for the next fifteen minutes. When he collapsed, panting and sweating, onto Julie B.’s chest, all the feelings that had been alleviated by the sex came rushing back.

“I don’t want to be alone,” Vince whispered. He felt foolish, but desperate for reassurance.

“You won’t be,” Julie B. whispered back. “You’ll be with Howard.”

Xxx

The day Julie B. left for his tour, Howard took Vince out for a drink. Vince carefully nursed a lager, afraid of loosening his tongue and saying something he’d regret.

“How old are you, Howard?”

“Twenty-five. I know the ‘tache makes me look older and more sophisticated…”  
Vince tuned out as Howard rambled on. Howard was probably younger than all of Vince’s lovers. He wasn’t a mature father figure; he was just a kid with an old-man mustache. He had no business trying to take care of Vince.

“Something wrong, Little Man?”

Vince looked at Howard’s concerned face, and the love he felt was so overpowering, he had to look away. Howard was the most important person in Vince’s world, and if he were to abandon Vince…

Vince couldn’t bear to think of it. He’d have nothing left.

“Howard,” Vince said in a voice that sounded creaky and strange to his own ears. “I have to tell you something really important, and how you react is going to change the course of our friendship forever.”

Howard frowned. “Is this about you getting red highlights? I told you before, it’s your head. If you get brain damage from all the chemicals…”

“It’s not about my hair. It’s about me.”

“What is it, Little Man?”

The night before, Julie B. had taken Vince from behind as they’d laid on their sides. He’d kissed Vince’s neck and called him ‘my beautiful Little Man’ and gently stroked Vince’s chest and cock while they’d fucked. It had been beautiful.

“I understand the animals when the talk,” Vince admitted. He waited for Howard to laugh or snap at him for being silly. He wanted one sign that Howard wasn’t the perfect partner Vince had built him up to be. 

Howard’s eyes became shiftier than usual as he leaned forward.

“Do they… talk about me?”

Vince felt like all the bones in his body had turned to dust. He felt ready to fall to the floor in a heap. 

“C’mon, Vince. Tell me. I can handle it.”

The nervous look on Howard’s face assured Vince that Howard absolutely could not take hearing what the animals said behind his back. Howard’s ego made spider webs look sturdy and substantial.

“The call you the King Keeper,” Vince lied. He smiled as Howard sat up straighter in his chair. 

“Well, that makes sense,” Howard observed in a haughty tone.

By Julie B.’s calculation, Vince had been slowly falling in love with Howard for years, and yet Vince was still falling. When Howard wasn’t looking, Vince switched his nearly full lager for Howard’s third, close to empty glass. He was going to have to keep his wits about him, but he liked seeing Howard drunk and silly and unguarded. He’d already fallen; it was time to see how far he could go before he finally hit the ground.


End file.
